


Safety

by Plume_Sombre



Series: HaiKise week [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Day 2, Gen, Kids fighting, Prompt: Childhood, haikiseweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 14:32:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4482926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plume_Sombre/pseuds/Plume_Sombre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To protect and to be protected, there is no real difference. / children HaiKise, platonic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safety

**Day 2:**  children – safety

 

Shougo didn't deny his brother's statement when he said that Ryouta looked like a girl. At seven years old, he took every word from his five years older brother for the truth, and he actually saw some girly features on the blond's face—boys weren't supposed to have such nice skin and smooth hair. Shougo had not wanted anything to do with his weird classmate, but he couldn't predict what the future was made of.

So when he ended up punching another kid for making Ryouta cry, he didn't actually know why. Maybe because he heard what they were calling him, maybe because he didn't want to hear out loud what he himself thought, or maybe because he couldn't stand seeing someone cry. Either way Shougo's fist was throbbing and his eyes were shooting daggers at the poor victim on the floor while Ryouta was staring at him with surprise and awe, and the teacher soon came to handle the situation. She wasn't exactly happy, nor was she angry, but rather pleased.

“You protected a kid at school? That's really nice of you, Shou-chan,” his mother told him when she had to pick him up after classes, since he got reprimanded.

“I just didn't like the other boy's face,” Shougo mumbled.

In a way it was weird because he had never stood up for anyone, since his circle of friends was reduced to one person, Shuuzou—if they could be called friends. And Shuuzou didn't need the help of anyone in his life, from all of his eight years of age.

The boy he punched stayed away from him and Ryouta, cowering whenever he bypassed him. But Ryouta started clinging to Shougo.

“Thank you Shougo-kun! Wow that was an amazing punch! Are you like a super hero? Hey, now that I think about it, I could have punched him myself if he were closer to me...”

That was annoying. Really annoying. Shougo didn't like overly cheerful people and Ryouta happened to be one of them—he was still wondering how he attracted such an opposite of him. At first he pushed him away, ignoring him and saying nasty things, but the other boy didn't know the meaning of the word 'give up'. Even Shuuzou began to notice their strange dance and he didn't hesitate to laugh at Shougo's face.

“You've found a new friend, Shougo, congrats!”

“Shut up Shuuzou! He's annoying.”

“He's kind, people love him, well except for bullies, but I think he can be a good friend, being all pretty and all.”

Shougo hated when Shuuzou was right—because he always was, although boys weren't supposed to look 'pretty'. He tried to put up with the ridiculous energy radiating from Ryouta, and he almost punched  _him_  for being hyperactive—constantly talking, whining, sticking to him. Since they were in the same class, he was unavoidable and sat beside Shougo whenever he could, being all friendly and sparkling with his blond hair. He had that huge smile plastered on his face while speaking to his new-found partner, even though he didn't receive any gentle reply.

“Why are you always with me?” Shougo grumbled.

“Why? I want to be your friend, of course!” Ryouta beamed, not missing a beat.

Shougo tried to reject him, really, but to his dismay, in the end he grew accustomed to Ryouta's presence—even the nagging. Day after day his attempts at remaining alone failed, and it took all his will power to give up when Ryouta didn't. At lunch they ate together, in projects they were paired up and after school they walked home together. Shuuzou often joined them, and the feeling of being the three of them was... nice. Shougo couldn't quite put a name on it but he came to like it. Something felt right, having Shuuzou at his left and Ryouta at his right, as if they could take on the world together.

Although they frequently bantered and got into small arguments, Shougo protected Ryouta from jeers and occasional shoving, when his friend started modeling at ten years old—his older sister was already a model, so she got him into it too because  _'he had a perfect face and he's so cute!'_. Some children found it stupid and picked on him. Shougo wasn't amused at all after retrieving Ryouta's bag from the trash, when the blond told him with a laugh that all this was nothing.

“Nothing, my foot! Don't let them get to you. They're just jealous 'cause you're going to be famous,” Shougo scoffed.

“Maybe... But that's not so bad, you know!” Ryouta assured.

Shougo didn't believe him, but didn't comment. Instead he tossed the bag at Ryouta, smacking him straight into his face.

* * *

To say that Kenta—Shougo’s brother—was completely infatuated with Ryouta was an understatement; he was fifteen but probably had the mentality of a twelve-year-old boy since he was way too nice to what Shougo called ‘kids like us who are more grown-up than him’. Then of course, Ryouta liked Kenta because of this niceness, and the fact that the teenager was amazed by his modeling—the young boy always lit up whenever a man complimented him on his work. But again, it might also be because he wanted to be liked by his best friend’s family.

“I think it’s good that Shougo has made a friend like you,” Kenta chuckled. “You can keep him in line!”

“Hey!” Shougo protested. “I’m not a ‘bad boy’ like you!”

“Says the one who gets into fights every day.”

Shougo grumbled something and averted his eyes, but Ryouta heard him and ducked his head.

“Actually he gets into fights because he tries to protect me from mean people,” he mumbled.

For a moment Kenta’s mind went blank, processing the information he just heard as if it burnt his brain because of the unusual feeling he got from it. He stared at his little brother, who still was looking away and—was he  _blushing_?

“Uhm, Shou-chan, that’s just so nice of—”

“Shut up!” Shougo shouted, fighting against the blush but failing miserably.

Ryouta didn’t know where to stand between the two brothers, and when he heard Kenta bursting out laughing, he momentarily felt his cheeks taking a red shade too. Shougo stomped on his brother’s foot, but Kenta didn’t stop cackling and just stepped back, admiring the half-angry, half-embarrassed expression he was witnessing.

“I can’t believe it!” he choked out. “And I thought you picked the fights for fun! Oh man, I need to tell this to mom, she’s going to be  _so_  excited. Protect Ryouta as much as possible, yeah?”

“Nii-chan, this isn't funny!”

Despite the embarrassment it caused and Shougo's fury, Ryouta decided Kenta was a good man and having him as an older brother would be awesome—he also noticed the resemblance between the two Haizaki, from the way they had similar gestures to the light in their eyes that shifted whenever they felt a strong emotion. He was happy to see a more relaxed Shougo, albeit a bit annoyed, and thought that, if Shougo protected him, he should at least do the same to make him smile.

* * *

At school they were always looked at, stared at and sometimes insulted in whispered grunts. Ryouta had been squirming while bypassing people, but he learnt to ignore them after several months—advice from his sisters—as he knew it wouldn't do any good to him or to Shougo if they reacted violently.

Shougo however wasn't on the same wavelength, which explained the many fights he picked—and after what Kenta said to him, he didn't see any reason to stop; for Ryouta's sake.

“He can't even fight, he's like a girl!” one of the boys sneered.

“Shut your mouth, you pig!” Shougo spat back.

And he swung another fist to the boy's jaw, making him fly to the ground and crashing in a loud thump. Ryouta hurried to his friend's side and grabbed his arm, half-panicking.

“It's okay Shougo, stop before you seriously get hurt!”

“This stupid pig needs to understand he's an idiot,” Shougo scowled.

His lips were bleeding and he had an enormous bruise on the cheek, but he still was willing to fight despite the aching sensation. He wouldn't back down.

Another boy followed his friend's lead and wanted to throw a punch, but Ryouta had enough of it. He pushed Shougo aside without warning, making him stumble, and took the blow right in the nose. He winced and gritted his teeth and fought back tears that threatened to fall, and the bullies were kind of shocked to have hit their initial target, staring stupidly. Ryouta put a hand on his face, feeling the blood dripping and his nose going numb, but for the first time in almost one year now, he glared. He glared at the boys who constantly picked on him, and in a swift, calculated movement that looked as irreal as wondrous, his fist connected with his opponent's jaw. Much like Shougo's punch, Ryouta's was powerful enough to make the boy fall on the ground, and time seemed to stop to process what happened. Ryouta clenched and unclenched his fist, wrinkling his nose and grimacing.

“This is disgusting,” he mumbled, tasting the blood in his mouth. “And that hurt a lot. My fist's still trembling.”

Shougo gaped at Ryouta, positively lost and incapable of saying anything remotely coherent, since his mind didn't seem to be able to conjure up the image of a fighting Ryouta instead of the sweet, kind-hearted boy he knew. He shook his head and glared at the bullies.

“So, do you want us to beat you up again?” he snorted, gesturing to the both of them.

“I don't really like fighting to be honest,” Ryouta whispered, but Shougo only chuckled.

The leader boy got up and snarled.

“We're done for today, but don't think you're safe!”

Ryouta stuck out his tongue and the group left, not without sending them one last dark look. The playground behind the school now deserted, Shougo could drop his guard and he slumped on the ground, grumbling about aching sides. Ryouta collected their schoolbags and sat next to him, holding a tissue to his nose and giving another to his friend. Shougo took it and started wiping his mouth, while eyeing critically the blond.

“When did you learn to fight?” he asked, genuinely curious and surprised.

Ryouta shrugged.

“I kept seeing you throwing punches at them, so I just copied you. That's not that hard, in fact.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Then Shougo grinned, amused and proud and happy, and he lifted a hand in the air. Ryouta looked at it with confusion, but he soon grinned in turn and high-fived Shougo.

“Guess we protect each other, now!”


End file.
